


The Bad Seed

by rockybluewigs (zekeshaolin)



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Alternate Reality, Bad Seed, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Het, High School, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Parody, Psychological Horror, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Serial Killers, Sexual Content, Suicide, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zekeshaolin/pseuds/rockybluewigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They got in my way of becoming what I wanted to be. So I end their lives. And no one would suspect a thing, because no one ever suspects the sweet-faced quiet ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. True Nature

My mother told me, when I was a child, to be anything I wanted.

So I became a sociopath.

I know what you're thinking - how does a girl like me classify herself as a sociopath? Simple: I don't like people, and I don't care. It's almost nonsensical, how I thought being a sociopath is better than being a music virtuoso, but I needed something to hide my true nature. Since I actually like music (not the sickening pop music that blasts out of convertibles) I thought hiding my sociopathy with music would suffice. Of course it does, since it calms my decade-long rage, especially with angry tunes I can easily play on the cello. However after my first day at Degrassi, my music-playing, sweet, innocent girl façade slips the minute I lay my eyes on Tori Santamaria.

She's an obvious pageant girl; stuck-up and mean. She tells me to stay away from the foreign boy I met a minute ago. I don't really know, or care for his name, so I won't ponder on it anymore. Oh well - that's besides the point.

The stupid bitch thought it was 'right' to spray year-old spit on my face using a tuba. I act quickly, with my true nature showing, fighting the poodle haired slut with all my might. If it wasn't for the teacher, I would have committed murder on her, literally.

She definitely wouldn't be my first victim, no she wouldn't. I've had my fair share of experimenting with animals, but after a while, the fact that my neighbors' cat population went from ten to three was making everything very suspicious. However, the lack of showing my true nature would eventually snap as I get older. Well, I'm older, and I'm spending my next four years in a stupid high school, notorious for school shootings, sexually-transmitted disease outbreaks, rival school merges, and, as my emotionally unstable sister Katie puts it, guys who think with their dicks rather with their brains.

As my sister's emotions start to unravel, she takes drugs to get away from it. The overachieving escapist couldn't simply accept her imperfect nature because as a Matlin, we don't exactly take defeat very well, so codeine did the trick. She comes home, and she's wet, with a former badass named Bianca Desousa, telling me to tell our parents about Katie's manipulative nature and her drug abuse.

And guess what? While she detoxes, I play my lovely cello. Dad says to stop, but I mentally say 'fuck it' and play anyway. She should have never popped pills in the first place, so feel my wrath, Katie. Do you feel it yet? She should have never messed with opiates in the first place, but as an overacheiver and a girl who can't handle her emotions, what would be the scapegoat away from said issues, besides pot?

She dyes her hair black because her ex-boyfriend didn't want her anymore. I don't blame Drew; Katie's nature is simply... unnerving and unwelcome. Even I, her only sister, don't want to deal with her shit. How does Marisol do it? Does she take drugs as well? With pill-popping, ligament tearing, and her need to feel sympathy by binging and purging, Katie's a fucking mess. What girl dyes her hair black because her ex dumps her like trash, for a girl that resembles Tori? What girl thought it was smart to post a video during an assembly, humiliating her ex during a party? And what girl thought that a tree-hugging pothead would suddenly want her? Oh, my sister.

I don't like any of my sister's boyfriends; Drew is very arrogant and has somewhat of an idiotic, parasitic personality. I barely even understand how Adam is related to that asshole. I congratulate him for leaving my sister, but leaving my sister for your ex is somewhat low. He never cared about my sister; he wanted to get away from his issues that he dealt with Bianca, so my sister, the goody-goody bulimic she was, was the obvious candidate. Huh.

Jake has his faults that I don't exactly like about him, but he's better than the last. He's a pot user... not really imperative to use around an ex-drug addict. And he once dated his step-sister who I don't care for the name about. That's just wrong and immoral, and I can't believe he would do that. So Katie's mouth is around Jake's, who has been around his sister's mouth. Wow, chain reaction for stupid? Yeah, I think so.

So I have 'friends' because as a human, friends are, I quote, imperative for a growing person. I guess. I pitifully take in poodle girl Tori after the despicable fight, and her sassy gay friend Tristan. I also take in foreign boy who is now Tori's boyfriend. Whatever. I don't like them at all, but since I would look like an undesirable (much like my sister) I just go with the flow.

However, day by day, my normal girl façade slips, showing the bad seed I truly am. I simply can't wait for it to all melt down.


	2. Juliet's Death Was a Murder!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.
> 
> Warning: Some violent content ahead. I've warned before, but I'm warning you again.

I sit on the bench by order. The place is being surrounded, since there's a body found  _dead_  on the premises in the school. Tori and foreign boy Zig sit by me, as well as my plaything, Cam. We are the friends of said victim... then I realize that the victim is the stupid gay friend of poodle girl, Tristan. I never liked him - why am I here? Oh yeah, I'm supposingly his friend.

"How long have you known the victim?"

Really, is that the first question you ask? How long have I known the victim? Is this officer  _serious_? "Since the beginning of the year, sir."

Funny thing is, I know exactly what happened - Tristan received the part of Juliet (now  _Jules_ ) and I got really angry. I wanted a part in that musical! That faggot didn't deserve to stand there and reenact a Shakespearean musical; a girl did. How dare he stand there, and sing out those lyrics, in  _monotone_? Why did stupid Elijah Goldsworthy cast him at the end of the day? That bipolar son of a bitch!

I confront the fat menace in the girls' bathroom, since he's trying  _so_  hard to be a girl; "You don't even deserve that role! You're a guy."

Of course my mask slipped; I can not simply sit here and be ridiculed, and get denied any part in the play. I worked hard on that, and this is the thanks I get? Huh.

"I may be a guy, but I act better than you."

Hah, he couldn't sing up there. I bore the same face Becky did during his audition: disgust and  _boredom_. "You did not! You didn't even want the part! You did it so you can get closer to Cam. Guess what, he's straight, okay? And he likes me. So you can stop using my FaceRange to get to know him. He doesn't  _want_  you."

"You know, I never pegged you to be a heartless  _bitch_." He retorts very lamely, with his effeminate voice.

"You don't even know half of the details, you  _faggot_ ," I spit, and push him against the cold wall. He looks at me with outrage, but I don't stop there. "But now you will." As he tries to escape, I remove the metal toilet seat and attack him with it. It's surprising how I do this, and no one walks inside the bathroom. I feel like I'm in the clear here! No cameras, no students, nothing. Although I may have to wash the evidence.

He screams and shields his face, but not for long as I kick him between his fat legs; he exposes his face while trying to hold that sensitive part of his anatomy. With his effeminate features, I was unaware he had a dick. Oh well - doesn't matter now. They wouldn't be used for anything anyway.

My actions repeat, and I find myself blindly attacking him until he groans. That's when I stop. But I set aside the bloodied toilet seat and pull his head to one of the stalls, forcefully ducking his head in the toilet. He fights it, and tries to push me off, but I push his head inside with all my might. The stalls around me get bloody with his hand trying to push, and I know I'm going to cover my tracks a little more in order for me to be in the clear.

I also look down - my clothes become a little wet with toilet water.  _Shit_ , this is a new shirt!

"You fucker!" I hiss, and give him a very harsh stomp on his neck. He gives up fighting, and I watch as he turns into a limp, lifeless body.

I exhale - it's the first time I've killed something in a long time. But guess what, he  _deserved_  it for stealing my thunder. I will not be ignored for some effeminate metrosexual who only took this role to impress a  _straight_  hockey player. Please, there are more deserving people for the role of Juliet.

I grab the bloody toilet seat to the sink and wash it, making sure it's devoid of all evidence. I clean the stall, and the toilet, and the floor, and my hands. I set up the scene to make it look like an accident, by putting water in the floor. He tripped - fell - hit his head - and bled to death.

Without looking back, I leave the bathroom hastily to my next class.

With brings me up to now, where I have a sobbing Tori, a withdrawn Zig, and a confused play thing. Me? On the outside I look sad. But in reality, I don't give a shit. Maybe now Eli would cast a  _girl_ , preferably me, and I will get the part as Juliet. Heh - the school wouldn't get so much horrid reception by angry moms and homophobe dads this way.

I watch as the older brother of the fat menace, Owen, rush inside, demanding to know everything. Nothing happened - he slipped and fell. But the killer is sitting right there, in between Tori and Cam. I almost feel sorry for him, but then I remember when he called me flat chested, using food as a reference. Him and his stupid hockey bitches. Then I stopped feeling sorry. Sorry  _not_  sorry.

It's the first time he's shown any emotion other than a menacing look, or a mischievous grin. Surprisingly, this idiot teased a female-to-male transgender, but he has a gay brother. Huh, again, sorry not sorry. I don't care for gay people; I mean, I didn't kill his brother because he's gay, but you can't attack a transgender but have all the love and care for your gay brother. It's just simple. He needs to get with the program.

I shed a staged tear - pretending to be deeply affected by this issue. I was his 'friend'; and why would I get caught? Why should I be a suspect? Shit - if anything, I shouldn't be here. I'd rather spend time with the attractive plaything over there, who's also being interrogated. Guess what, Cam barely knows the guy. He doesn't know that it was really him on FaceRange, trying to be me. He doesn't know that I secretly call him my plaything, simply because the term 'boyfriend' scares me to no end. I don't even like him, so why does he need the term boyfriend?

He's a plaything, nothing more and nothing less. But he won't even try to get last first base with me. Ugh - I feel like I need to walk on eggshells when I'm around him. Oh well. If I ever wanted anyone else, it would be the foreign boy Zig.

Foreign boy Zig... hmmm. He doesn't look so bad. As a matter of fact, I liked him briefly. Maybe he has a reason to, I don't know. But I will find out.

 


	3. The Shit Hits The (Pageant) Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Another scene ahead, as well as some hetero-sex. Sorry for that. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

This  _narcissist_. She thinks she's going to sit there and figuratively call me ugly? Bitch, please. She looks like a poodle with the face of that bitch on the  _L.A. Complex._ She has no reason to call me ugly, since her boyfriend doesn't even want her, and she lost her fat, gay bastard of a best friend. She's still coping, but I can see right through her. She's depressed, and ignoring her foreign boyfriend's advances, so foreign boy Zig comes to me now. However, I play simple hard-to-get, since he thinks he's gonna get it that easy. Ha, please.

I dump Cam because he's an idiot. I wear makeup and a crown to impress him and he shuts me down. Ugh, that virgin. Whatever, I'm free to pick out my next plaything. He still doesn't want to do anything with me. He even denied making out with me. I take my shirt off for him and everything! Whatever.

Now, Tori's gonna get it, hard. No one calls me ugly and gets away from it. Especially from a poodle haired slut like her.

-x-

At the heat of the moment, I steal her stupid boyfriend - I tell him to assist me for a talent part of the pageant competition. My voice, good looks, and surprisingly his good looks, will show Tori  _fucking_  Santamaria that I'm not to be messed with. She does a stupid magic show - even I can see the falseness of each magic trick. Haha, what a bitch - she couldn't do anything else because she's just so untalented. She can't sing, or act, or dance... she's just there.

Again, at the heat of the moment, I kiss him in the dressing rooms, with the door open. His lips are so much better than Cam's, considering the guy's lips lacked any Chapstick to heal those cracks. His lips also ignite a fire within me - something I generally lacked from kissing Cam. I draw him closer, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he does the same with my hips.

I want more - no, I need more. I just need so much more than a measly kiss. And here he is, in his glory; a ticket to the more I want.

I pull away and start kissing his neck; eliciting very approving noises from the other. I giggle lightly, and draw my tongue up to the shell of his non-pierced ear. Another sexual noise elicits from him, and I get more excited. This is way more action I did for Cam. Wait, I never did anything with the hockey player. He's such a virgin.

Well, I am too, but I at least want something.

Everything moves quickly the minute I reach down and touch his growing erection - he simply takes me to a new high that I thought would be seen with psychedelic drugs. I'm so wrong; the way he captures my innocence and ravish me on the dressing room table is a moment I hope to never forget. The fact that protection isn't used is even more promiscuous. I'm not ovulating anyway, so I'm in the clear. And even if I am, that's why there's a plan B.

I release one last moan and came, putting my head against his shoulder. I feel him coming right after, and we both pant. This new high shatters the minute I see that flabbergasted look of Tori looking at her neglected foreign boyfriend and her best friend, calming down from the earth-shattering orgasmic high.  
I smirk quickly, then frown to put my girly façade on for her. But she can see right through me; after all I just finished fucking her foreign boyfriend.

"You slut," she hisses at me, and runs away, with her stupid tears running down her cheeks, staining the horrible makeup from her caked face.

I mentally shrug, but then I push foreign boy Zig off of me and fix myself very quickly, trying to get ready for the next part of the pageant. Even with my superficial charm and wonderful talent, I know I'm going to win this competition. All paws off, Tori. Fucking your boyfriend is simply the start.

"Let's never speak of this," I tell him, while he fixes himself up and leaves the dressing room, all to myself. I quickly put in my pageant dress, when my stupid  _emo_ sister walks in.

"Hey - can you explain to me why Tori is crying in her dressing room?" She asks me, like I really care if she's bawling because her 'best friend' and her boyfriend just had a simple tryst with each other.

"I don't know... maybe the competition's getting to her?" I make up some shit; making me clear of any suspicions. She shrugs and helps me in my dress by zipping the back, and also fixing my hair. It's silent, but I rather the silence than her pounding me with questions about Tori and her melancholia, which I don't care about.

"No matter if she wins or if you win," Katie says to me, turning me around about-face to her. "You guys are still best friends, and that should matter in the end." She smiles, and lets me leave the dressing room before her. Personally I don't care; at the end of the day, she's not my friend. She's simply a mask - that slipped the minute her gay friend decided to cast himself for Juliet.

-x-

As I stand on stage, I realize that standing on that stage makes me happier. My pictures are being taken, everyone's looking and admiring me - god, if I was an only child, I would be everything to my parents. They probably make me a pageant child instead of a music prodigy. I'd like that very much. Katie wouldn't exist, and I wouldn't be the 'baby Matlin' of Degrassi anymore - or at all. Huh, doesn't sound so bad. But I'd never eliminate my sister, even though I genuinely don't care for her.

Tori comes up with some half-assed answer to the question, 'What's your greatest weakness?'. She looks at me menacingly, and smiles through her stupid tears. Bitch, please. You will always be a stupid poodle-haired bitch. And I continue to be a stone-faced bad seed. Although I'd never reveal that.

Oh look - it's my turn.

"What's your greatest weakness?" My greatest weakness? Sex... or music, or ending lives of those who deserve it. Or my grandiosity - pick and  _choose_.

Okay Maya. Half-ass it. Staged tears, and stutter. "I don't have much confidence. I - I only did this because my friend told me to, because I wasn't getting the right attention I needed. But being up here, I realized that I shouldn't sell myself short - I should be more confident, believe in myself. Yeah, I should."

The audience claps for me, and I know I got this in the bag. I wipe my staged tears and step down from the limelight.

-x-

Unfortunately Tori wins the pageant, and I drop my jaw in shock. She did not deserve to win - that big crown is mine. She doesn't even have talent - I sang a song with her stupid boyfriend that I barely care for, I answer the stupid question with the best half-assed answer, better than her stupid answer that she didn't mean, and she wins? She doesn't even have  _natural_  beauty.

I go to her dressing room, while she smiles at herself in the mirror, with the stupid crown on her head. It's almost a good thing that there are no cameras in the dressing room - if there were, the security guards would have easily watched some child porn.

"What are you doing here?" Tori snaps.

I close the door - no, lock it - and smirk evilly at her. "I just want to congratulate you on your victory. Of course the judges would pick a Barbie doll like you - fake and plastic like her skin, stupid with no brain, and a stereotypical hourglass body. With my flat chest and inability to tolerate makeup, they have to pick the fake bitch, didn't they?"

"Fake bitch?" Tori laughs humorlessly. "Oh yeah, I'm fake, because I give my raw talent to the judges, while you half-ass yourself to the finals. Please, I give you honesty, and you fuck my boyfriend?"

"I gave him what you couldn't," I argue. "And you don't even deserve this crown."

"Well too bad, Maya Matlin." The poodle haired freak snarls at me and turns around, checking herself in the mirror. "Now, be a dear and leave my dressing room—"

She freezes, the minute she feels a sharp pain on her back. The sharp knife thrusts into her, and I watch as her blood ooze out of the newly fresh wound onto my hand. I retrieve the knife from her, and she gasps for air, dropping to her knees. I know she won't die instantly, but I watch as she crumples to the ground, with the blood creating a pretty pool around her. I grab a long plastic bag and drape it over me, creating a hole for my arms and head. I cannot risk getting any blood on this dress.

I kneel in front of her, take off my shoes, and repeatedly hit her with the sharp heel. The stab wound bleeds, and so does the marks on her body. The blood reaches to my knees, but I ignore it, after seeing some tissues on the vanity. I give her one last harsh, bone-shattering blow, and she admits defeat, the light in her eyes flickering shut.

I don't see her convulsing anymore, so I tie a bag over her head, but not without removing the crown from her stupid head. She doesn't deserve it.

I breathe, and grab some wet tissues from the dressing room table, wiping severely at my knees and hands. I'm so lucky that I don't have any blood on anything right now, but there's a lot on my shoes and some on the crown. I grab my shoes and wipe the crown, sneaking through another door out of the dressing room.

The day is gone by without any suspicions.


	4. Parallel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm kind of an ex-psychology major, so this chapter is a bit uh…psychological. It deals more with Antisocial Personality Disorder/Sociopathy than anything else, but that's the whole idea!  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

Unfortunately for me, it's another murder that goes noticed - it's citywide. They classify her as a sweet little girl who loved pageants. Hah, more like a poodle haired bitch who wanted attention. Everyone expected me to feel bad, but I don't. Instead, I stage the whole thing - the minute I hear Tori is dead, I cried and cried and cried. It's almost as good to receive a Gemini Award, if you ask me. Mom weeps with me. Dad leaves the room. Katie holds me tightly. I receive calls from Tori's foreign boyfriend, and surprisingly Cam, sending their 'condolences'.

Please, I don't need any condolences for a girl I  _purely_  hated.

Mom tries to prevent me to go to school, but I insist.

"Maya - are you sure you want to go to school?" She asks me, with a concerned look. Katie sports the same look. "It's okay if you don't want to."

"Look mom, I want to go to school. I have to face them eventually." Actually, I don't really care about going to school, but I really don't want to stay home. I think not going to school would be dramatic.

Both women wave it off. I walk my way to school, suddenly getting rushed by different people to send their condolences. I want to roll my eyes so hard, that I hold back and smile at everyone. I frown when the bipolar playwright tells me that I'm casted as Juliet, simply because he feels sorry for me since I lost both of my 'best friends'.

I finally got the part, but really Eli? Sympathy is your  _drive_  to cast me as Juliet?

I smirk and accept defeat - "Thanks a lot. I know Tori and Tristan would be happy for me that I got the lead in the school musical."

Hah,  _bullshit_. They totally hate me, where ever they are; watching me, snarling at me because I stole their lives and their prized desires.

Cam comes up to me and says sorry, and I forgive him. I think he can be my pretend boyfriend, and keep my plaything by my side - the mind-blowing sex I had with foreign boy Zig, I just want that again. Now that he's totally available and coping with his girlfriend's death. Yup, he's gonna want some eventually, and Tori Santamaria is gone from his memory, in a flash.

It's not my master plan, but it puts bread on the table. Speaking of table, I randomly bump onto a table on my way to freshman English.

"Woah," I back up, feeling a sharp pain in the nether area. It's normal, considering the rough sex I had yesterday.

"Are you okay?" The pothead boyfriend of my sister - Jake I think - asks me like he cares for my well being.

"I'm fine, just didn't know where I was going," I shrug it off.

"I understand - being in a complete stupor since your best friend died," Jake tries to sympathize. I go along with it and let a staged tear fall down my cheek.

"I just wish she didn't die," I sigh. "I just lost my other best friend, and Owen lost a younger brother; I can't believe I lost another one of my best friends in less than a month."

Jake gingerly places a hand on my shoulder. "I know you were close to them, and I completely understand how it is to lose someone. But don't give up - life is unfortunate."

Yes, life is unfortunate, and you are speaking to the  _main_  killer. "I guess."

"Trust me, if your sister can get over her drug addiction, you can get over your friends."

I'm  _already_  over them, deadbeat. "Now, you go to class, okay?"

I nod, and hurry off to my freshman English class. Today we're learning about the play book - the Bad Seed - which talks about a child sociopath that kills her competitor over a penmanship medal. Claude Daigle, hah! What kind of name is Claude Daigle? I almost chuckle at the name, causing foreign boy Zig to stare at me coldly (Considering he has a stupid name too.)

This story is basically the psychological storyline of a child gone  _wrong_. "Nature versus nurture," the teacher Ms. Dawes starts her tedious class. "What does it mean?"

Nature deals with the way one is born. Nurture is the way one is raised. But what does this have to do with the Bad Seed? Rhoda is born bad, just like me of course. I never had a shitty childhood - and Rhoda is still a young girl who gets everything so of course she isn't a prime example of a disturbed child with a neglectful childhood.

"Nature is more of an innate issue. Nurture is more of a behavioral issue," one student bluntly puts it.

"Yes," the old female teacher smiles. "So, the protagonist - Rhoda Penmark - is a child sociopath, who kills three victims, Claude Daigle, an old neighbor, and at the end, in which I hope you all read, Leroy. It is shown that Rhoda's grandmother is also a serial killer. So do you think this is nature or nurture?"

Oh, now I understand how this is dealt with her. "Nature - she's born bad." I answer quickly, after she picks on me.

"But what if someone says.. nurture?" Ms. Dawes queries - the question raises eyebrows in the classroom. "Was it the way she was raised?"

"But how is it nurture if she receives  _everything_  she wants?" Foreign boy Zig counteracts. "She gets gifts by a self-proclaimed psycho _therapist_  who couldn't see that Rhoda reveals sociopathic abilities, and _claiming_  that she was psycho-analyzed by Sigmund Freud." Whom, by the way, has a very explicit way of explaining children. Ugh - have you even heard of the names he comes up with for his psychosexual stages of development?

"That's very true," another student agrees.

"Yes, but what can be a candidate for nurture?" Ms. Dawes questions.

"Too much crime dramas on the radio?" A student stupidly answers, which causes the students - except me - to laugh. What, just  _what_? Shut up, please. That has nothing to do with her sociopathy.

"No, perhaps it's... her lack of understanding how to deal with others due to her antisocial personality," Another student queries. "Think about it - sociopathy is no longer called sociopathy. It's antisocial personality disorder. Anyone can have it. They show antisocial behavior, parasitic relationships - today's sociopaths are just simply, antisocial. The term  _sociopath_  has no meaning anymore."

"True, but let's not go there with the antisocial personality disorder," the teacher says. "I do agree with the idea that she is possibly antisocial and bound to be a menace to society, if the story is ever continued."

"But I think being born with it makes more sense," I start to reason. "She has everything - her landlord gives her gifts, her parents adore her. The only people who can see through her is Leroy, Miss Fern, Claude Daigle, and surprisingly, his inebriated mother. Leroy suspects that Rhoda is a natural-born killer, while Ms. Fern reveals that Rhoda last saw Claude at the wharf, and says she's a 'sore loser'. His mother knows that Rhoda wanted that medal by seeing right through the pigtails. Sociopaths are usually born with it, unlike psychopaths, who have a really destroyed psyche rather than an antisocial personality. Rhoda's grandmother is a serial killer and she's a sociopath."

The issue, while being a debated topic for days, went on for only ten minutes of the class and we conclude that she is a natural-born killer. But what sticks to me really, is the scene of the murder. It reminds me of a scene that happens in my life. Right when Rhoda admits to killing Claude Daigle in the play.

Maybe it's just a parallel.


	5. Oh, This Pageant Crown?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi

Home at last, and I can breathe. But not today - I see my parents, and Tori's parents sitting by the television, frozen in place the minute they see me. As if I think my day's going to get any worse, I see stupid Tori's parents sitting on the couch, with a distressed mother and a pissed father.

Wow, they really gave Tori their  _hideous_  poodle hair.

"I demand to know where is my daughter's pageant crown!" Tori's inebriated mother stands up, and stumbles over to me with drunken anger that makes the situation more funny than serious, and sprays her alcoholic breath near my face. I crinkle my nose in disgust.

"How about laying off the vodka first, then I'll take this situation more seriously," I retort, letting my mask slip with no care in the world. I have no room to deal with drunk bitches, especially ones who are the parents of a deceased girl I care very little about.

"Why, that's preposterous," my mother yells in outrage. "Maya would never steal your daughter's pageant crown. Would you?"

"No," I lie. The crown is hiding in my room, where no one can find it. They would have to look pretty hard to find it, as well as the bloodied shoes with it. "Tori's my best friend - I would  _never_  do such a thing. That's rightfully hers, and she earned it."

Yeah that's right,  _keep lying_. "Really?" Her mother slurs. "Are you sure about that? You never been jealous of her?"

"For what? For being a pageant girl?" I yell. "Please, the least of my worries. My best friend, and your daughter dies, and your  _prime_  suspect is me? Really, think this through, lady Santamaria. I've never been jealous of her. There's no reason to be jealous of her. But maybe I am - she doesn't have to deal with a drunken mother anymore. Now can you get away from me - your alcohol breath is making me nauseous."

Tori's father silently apologizes, and grabs his wife, pulling her away from me. Finally I can breathe properly. Her breath smells like she brushed her teeth with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and rinsed it with some cheap wine. Lady Santamaria snarls at me, and angrily flinches from her husband's grip.

"Listen here - you're not fooling anyone Blondie," she points, keeping her distance from me. "My lovely daughter, was found, covered in wounds that look like she's been beat up by a shoe, with her crown removed and a bag over her head. The police can't find a single soul as to who killed my daughter. Don't you think that's a little weird, how a cold-blooded individual who can't admit defeat would kill my daughter?"

"I think it's our time to go," the man stands up, and carries crazy Lady Santamaria out of the door. I stand there, with an emotionless look, but since my parents are there, I frown, trying to show  _some_  emotion.

-x-

As I get closer to Zig, I feel like I'm tearing away from Cam. Even after the two deaths from my victims, he's been more distant towards me. He doesn't understand the concept of having a girlfriend, but since I don't really like him, I can't really speak for that. So I ignore Cam for the day and go to foreign boy Zig. Today, we talk, and the next minute, I'm tearing his pants off in the boiler room.

"Are you sure about this?" He whispers.

I narrow my eyes at him, a little more devilishly than usual. "If I wasn't sure about this, we would be at class, right?"

He shrugs, and I smile, while we continue to rush  _mindlessly_  for some release. I know I shouldn't, but I barely have half a conscience to care. After it, I still don't care so there's no more discussion about my conscience, which tells me what's wrong is right and the other way around. Wait - that means I don't have one. Oh well, I don't care. Conscience is simply an idiotic explanation on living life carefully, but how are we going to live carefully without a little risk? I've taken many risks, ending the lives of my 'friends' so I guess I can live with those risks. Fuck conscience, and anyone who believes in them.

I leave the boiler room hastily, hoping to get to my next class and not look like I just gave a random dick head a blowjob. I need to 'learn' something, right? Too bad they don't show you how to execute your enemy in school, nor do they teach you how to make a murder scene look like an accident. It's surprising how I can, but maybe that's just my love for crime scene investigations, right? Wrong - it's just common knowledge, like walking or breathing.

I come home to a very quiet house later in the day. My parents, while being away to a doctor's appointment, makes the quietness more suspicious. My sister Katie decides to take a sick day, but I can see right through her the minute she wants to stay home. More like, 'trying to avoid the ex' day. Too bad she barely knows that Drew Torres drops out of school.

What an idiot; what person drops out of school because of hard schoolwork? He would never survive in college if he gives up like that. Oh well - I guess there is some good that Katie isn't involved with that loser anymore.

I enter my room, and my sister stands there, infuriated, holding Tori's crown.

"How'd you get this," she hisses, trying to cool her temper.

I feign innocence, "How did that get there! Hah, wow, did that fly here or something—?"

"Why is  _this_  in your room instead of being on Tori's head!" My sister shrieks shrilly, her voice echoing around the house. "I need an answer, Maya, or I swear to god, I will tell mom, dad, and the Santamarias about this."

I recoil, and try to think of a logical answer to settle this whole… idea. I don't want my sister revealing my angry nature, because if she does, I have to kill her before she does it. "I—"

"You what!" She shrieks again.

"Would you let me  _fucking_  answer?" I shriek back. Katie recoils at my sudden language, but she nods, making me explain the issue at stake. Of course, I have to lie to cover my tracks. "You see, Tori personally wanted me to win, so she gives me the crown to make me feel like a winner. She cherishes our friendship together, and after seeing my defeated look, she gives it to me. I swear, I never remove it from her head or anything. She gave it to me."

It's a good thing I wipe up the blood before placing the crown. Question is - how did Katie figure out my hiding place? She sighs, pinching her nose bridge. "God. You need to give this to—"

"No," I stop her.

"Why? It's the only thing her mom has of Tori," Katie lamely explains.

Oh please, this is not Tori's first pageant. They have many things to remember the bitch by. "It's not Tori's first pageant. Plus, Tori gave this to me to keep - don't you think you'd be breaking a friendship promise between me and Tori?"

She blinks. "Fine, but hide it somewhere else - that hiding place is  _not_  sufficient enough."

She drops the crown on my bed, and storms out of the room. It's a good thing I hide the shoes somewhere else because if she sees the shoes, I would be dead. I would look at time behind bars, or at a mental hospital. Either way, it won't be fun.

I look at the crown as it glistens in the winter sunset shining out of my window.


	6. Shirley Temple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

Ever since I've been handed the role for Juliet, I've been ignoring my scripts, since I have better things—or  _people_ —to do. I've seen the musical plenty times on the Internet to count, so I have everything in the bag. I know I'm going to excel at playing this role, since I'm basically awesome and talented, and since the last two candidates for Juliet died, the crew simply has no choice. Eliminate the competition to get the things you want: it's  _super_  effective.

I enter the theater—that's also or used to be a gym, I simply don't know—and watch as everyone sets up.

"Ah, the woman of the hour," the manic-depressive playwright smiles at me, with a mischievous glint in his green eyes. Heh, if he wasn't dedicated to Shirley Temple, I'd have half a mind to take him. "Okay, we're already setting up and I hope you did your homework - we're doing a particular scene that would catch the audience's eye."

"Oh, the balcony scene?" I ask innocently - I obviously know of the balcony scene. It's not one of my favorite scenes but since it needs to be perfect for perfectionist Eli over here, then what the hell? "Do I have to—"

"Not at all," he smirks, noticing my uneasiness about kissing someone else during a musical rehearsal. "Just sing the small duet, that's it."

I nod, fully understanding the entire concept. I walk up on stage, while the nutcase Imogen tries to capture the set that needs to be done so that the play looks… professional. I  _don't_  like her; she's very weird, and she appears to have a problem with her attitude. I don't know what any one that dated her (Eli included) sees in her. She's just… no. Her fifties-inspired glasses need to be eliminated, and the Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century-esque pigtails make her look like a little immature girl. I bet she is an immature girl. I'm younger than her, and I'm way more mature than her.

"Maya - can you step on the makeshift balcony for me please?" She asks, pointing to the shallow cardboard boxes next to me. I oblige, and place myself there. She starts mumbling, and sketching something in her book. Ugh - I really didn't come here for petty set designs, but it has to be done sooner or later. Although I'm not fond of the set designer at all.

As the rehearsal goes on, Shirley Temple walks in, with an angry expression on her face. She always has a stupid emotional look on her face - either anger or anguish. Either way she seems like a bitch to me. Boy was I right; as I pretend to be interested about sharing my musical talent to the Romeo in front of me—his name I don't even care about—I hear her whiny voice from across the room. God, can she just shut up? Whatever she's talking about, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow.

As if Eli reads my mind, "I'll talk to you later about this."

"But we need to—"

"And I need to rehearse a play," he says rather calmly. "It will only take a minute, Clare. We'll take care of that issue later."

Discreetly, I feel myself smirk, and without a hesitance, I continue the balcony scene for the umpteenth time. She watches the entire scene with a look that looks unreadable from here. I'm not sure but for some reason the more I glance at her, the more hatred and pity I feel for her. I mean, dating your step brother and then dating a manic-depressive - she must like the crazy ones.

I hope she doesn't meddle with my family now that her stepbrother is dating my sister. I just can't deal with the fact that the curly-haired junior would attempt to come into my family. I hope they break up, just so I can't deal with her.

"Cut - and that's a wrap!" The director smiles, and I get off the stage. Hopefully I scan just go home, and use my cello as my scapegoat, and wear my bloody crown for a couple of hours—

"Hey Maya," Shirley Temple—I mean,  _Clare_  (what a nice name, huh. Too bad it's not fit for  _her_ )—makes her way towards me, while I'm hastily putting my very unused script into my bag. "I just wanted to send my condolences... since your best friends died and everything."

I raise an eyebrow. "Okay, thanks?"

I sling the strap of my bag on my back, and stare at her some more. She has a habit of blushing; I pick that up whenever she's around Eli, or when she's flustered or embarrassed. Although I haven't done anything to make her feel embarrassed. "Is that all?"

Clare glances back at me, but with a questionable look. "I'm just - you seem to be taking this a little... off."

"What do you expect for me to do? Be depressed all the time? Want me to wear all black and dye my hair black, with some black makeup, and drive a  _hearse_?" I ask, unaware that I may have crossed a line.

"Well - no - but—"

"Then what do you think I should feel?" I hiss at her. "Think of it this way. I could be using a defense mechanism to hide my grief and anguish over the fact that my two best friends since I got to this school died. But why do  _you_  care? You  **barely**  know me. The only thing that connects us is that your stepbrother - in which you had an incestuous fling with - is dating my sister, and you feel the need to send your pity party to me because it's, and I quote, the 'Christian thing to do'."

The curly-haired junior blinks in anger, but I'm completely done with this conversation. Plus, I have better things to do than to sit here and be pitied by Degrassi's straight-laced Christian. "Well I guess our  _pointless_  conversation is done! See you around,  _Clare_." I smile, and sidestep her completely. As I walk out of these halls, I growl under my breath.

-x-

As I get home, I see a sight I definitely don't want to see - my sister and her pothead boyfriend making out on the couch. I came home just in time; yay.

"Get a room," I growl, and speed off to my room, hoping to get some peace and quiet. After seeing the despicable display, everything goes out the window. I don't even want to touch my cello anymore. So what to do, what to do... maybe I can sneak out and spend my precious time with a certain boy. He wouldn't mind getting used for sex anyway. He thinks I'm still broken up with Cam, but I'm not. The hockey player is simply a mask. However, for Zig - he's just a guy who I show half of my sociopathic nature to - with my sexual prowess of course - but he knows nothing of the deaths and who causes them. He would  _never_  know either.

I climb out of my window and find myself walking over to the grocery store, where he lives at. I don't really care if his parents are home... I just want release, and I'm pretty sure finding another candidate would be stupid, and Cam would definitely turn me down. Zig would never think of turning me down. His dead girlfriend gave him  _shit_ , and I'm here to change that.

I enter the somewhat quiet store, and he looks at me expectantly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm bored." The simple comment makes him grab my hand and took me upstairs to his house, or apartment, or whatever. It's just upstairs and he's taking me there.

"Are your parents home?"

He shakes his head no, and that's all I need before I push him against his bedroom door, and kiss him forcefully. Everything goes faster as our clothes are ripped off from our bodies to the floor in a crumpled heap; he pushes me against the wall suddenly, and lifts me up. His hands are on my thighs and my arms are on his shoulders. He holds me up as he suddenly thrusts swiftly into me, with a roughness that's way more rough than on the vanity.

Since no one is home, I take the advantage to scream in pure bliss - almost in a yell. He puts his head on my shoulder and I growl, "Bite me,  _bitch_."

He obliges - and I scream again. The sharp pain on my neck arouses me to no end. He does it again, causing me to scream again, and again.

I don't know, but suddenly biting is a new thing for me. And as I feel myself release, I realize that I have to hide the sudden mark on my neck just so my plaything wouldn't do anything. Maybe I wouldn't hide it... it is pretty cool, but I barely wear scarves. Cam also has a hard time with touching me. So maybe I can leave it there, so he can suffer and cry and admit defeat, and I would enjoy every minute of it. Maybe I'm just a sadomasochist, without realizing it. Huh. That seems plausible.


	7. Get Rid of the Evidence (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-part chapter, so sorry for the cliffhanger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi

After coming home from foreign boy's house, I barely want leave my room. Why should I? Everyone would see the fresh bite mark and I would be in trouble. I don't want to, and I don't need to.

"Dinner's ready," I hear my mother say from the kitchenette.

I groan inwardly and make a hasty retreat to the bathroom. I never thought I would say this, but thank The person responsible for inventing makeup. If there wasn't any makeup, we'd look at tons of ugly girls underneath the caked stuff, as well as see the true nature of hickeys for sexually active, young teenage girls and boys. I retrieve the makeup kit from the medicine cabinet and find what I'm looking for—concealer—and with natural talent, I dab the awfully ticklish, dirty sponge onto my neck, making sure the makeup covers the redness and the bite mark. The concealer is the same color as my skin tone, I notice, so the makeup won't just look like a blob of hyperpigmentation.

I look in the mirror, and it's barely there.

I put everything away, clean up my hands, and leave the bathroom so no one in this house would dare to ask me what's on my neck during dinner.

-x-

I feel so unwanted around Cam. He never wants to do anything worth my time anymore, simply because two of his—I mean, my—so-called 'friends' die and he can't get over that. Dude,  _seriously_? You don't even know that Tristan posed as me on FaceRange so how is he your friend? And you wouldn't have known Tori if it wasn't for me.

I groan as Cam moves his face to the side as I try to kiss him. "What the hell?"

"I just..." He stops, and sighs deeply. It's been this way since her stupid death, and I'm tired of it.

"Just what?" I ask, a bit exasperatingly. "You've been distant. Like, a lot."

"I think we should at least talk about this," the hockey player tries to pathetically explain. "You're obviously acting out because you're not over your two friends dying, and it's been a big issue so..."

I drain him out, getting really bored of the conversation. What would it take for him to realize that I don't give a shit about those two? God, life is so much easier when you expose your true nature. I hate living a lie, and I have been for a while.

I don't know when he stopped talking because he waves his hand in my face, losing my train of thought. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," I pretend to be disoriented and shake my head from the lack of thoughts I had a minute ago. "I know that you've been depressed about the deaths of my friends, but it's taken a toll on our relationship." Psh, like I care about any of those issues.

"I just... I wished it would be easier to forget," he sighs.

Oh god, what's the deal with this idiot? He never liked  _any_  of my 'friends'! "Yeah me too, but what happens, happens. We just need to move on and hope for the best."

Complete  _bullshit_. "You're right," he sighs and leans closer to me. I finally feel happier now that he can finally shut up and pay attention to me, rather than the stupid deaths of two stupid friends. "I promise - I'll pay more attention to you now." We both smile, and close the gap between us. Although I feel absolutely nothing but chapped lips against mine, almost like a wall, I pretend to kiss back and feel like I'm enjoying something.  
As we pull away, at the corner of my eye, I see foreign boy Zig staring coldly at us. I laugh inwardly, and when Cam walks away from me, I walk over to him.

"What do you want?"

I feign a taken-aback look, just so he could never suspect my true nature of not caring about anything. "Why're you being so mean all of a sudden?"

"Why are you playing the both of us?" He questions, causing me to cock an eyebrow in suspicion. What, I'm not playing  _anyone_. Cam's simply a mask, and the guy standing before me is not a mask. I laugh inwardly at him, although I have a face, stone-cold with no emotion.

"I'm playing  _who_ , exactly?" I play the innocent card. I know what I'm doing, but foreign boy Zig here is being a desperate little bitch, thinking that I was going to  _leave_  my mask for someone else. That would make me look like a backstabber, a homewrecker, and a slut, words that my sister used to explain half of the girls in this school, _especially_  Bianca.

"You're playing me, and you're playing Cam."

I shake my head, feigning disbelief. "Okay, first, you played Tori, so you shouldn't be talking. Second, I'm not playing you because we're not dating. And third, why did you get the  _presumption_  that I was going to leave Cam for you, while this school is still  _apparently_  mourning over Tori's death?"

"I - you made it clear that we had something," he stresses. "In the dressing room on top of the vanity, yesterday against my door—"

"A couple of  _trysts_  do not solidify anything other than sexual release," I conclude.

His face contorts to a look of anger. "Why are you being like this?"

"Because you thought that since we fucked each other more than once, that I would leave my good and loyal boyfriend for you," I say. "Come on, be realistic. How would that make me look?"

"How  _you_  look?" He laughs incredulously. "You know what, why am I wasting my time here? You just proved to me that you obviously care about yourself, and you used me. That's fine, you can keep playing your friend over there who's completely oblivious to your true nature but you won't play me any longer."

Before I have a chance to reply, he walks away without looking back at me. He'll come back; they  _always_  come back.

-x-

I look at the shoes in front of me, the one I used to  _lethally_  attack my opponent after the pageant not too long ago. They are the same color as my dress, although sporting, as of now, crusty blood. I don't understand why I never cleaned the shoes; they are horribly light blue and blood red, and that's not really a fashion statement. Then again, I know I will  _never_  wear those shoes again. They made my feet hurt! God, it hurts being a lady sometimes.

I shrug, and I receive a link about the new update on Tori's death. Yes, I keep an update on those things just in case if they find a clue that makes me look suspicious. Now they update it with the pictures of the marks all over her face of where I attacked her the most, with my shoe. I sigh and close the laptop, and contemplate what I should do with these shoes.

They're pretty, yes, but I don't want them any longer. If I don't throw them away soon, Katie may ransack my room again and find them.

I put my sneakers back on, and put the shoes in the same plastic bag they were hiding it. I open the door, trying to see if the coast is clear so I can sneak out of here. When I feel the house almost empty, I leave my room and head for the front door, but suddenly I hear a door slam.

"Mom? Dad?" I hear my stupid older sister trying to call for our parents. They're not here, oh smart one.

I hastily grab the doorknob and try to open the door, but my sister makes her way to the foyer. "Maya! Where are you going?"

"Uh," I try to think of a logical lie to my sudden sneaking out but surprisingly, I have nothing. Seriously, there's a reason why my room's in the first floor, and I should use the window more often.

"What's in the bag?" She asks.

I look at the plastic bag in my hand, and suddenly made up a lie. "I - I'm just taking out the garbage in my room."

"Garbage?" Katie frowns. "And you felt the need to leave the garbage in our house for others to pick up? You might as well take out the garbage from the kitchen—"

"No," I interrupt her. "This garbage needs to be thrown away... like, burned."

Shit! Why did I say  _that_?

"Uh, I'm pretty sure it's not that serious," she laughs, and tries to grab the plastic bag from me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to move the bag from her peripheral grip.

"Well, it's a little suspicious that your garbage contents need to be burned," she points out. "So what's in there that needs to be burned?"

"Garbage?" I reply obviously. "Look, I have to go throw this away, like now—"

"What's in the bag?" she asks again, a little louder and firmer, and suddenly tries to get the bag from me. I resist, and try to move away from her, but she grabs my wrist, and snatches the bag from my grip. However, I snatch it back and try to get it away from her grip.

"You're ripping the bag!" I argue.

She ignores my comment, and starts tugging on the bag. Suddenly, in almost in a slow-motion scene, the bag rips, and the bloody shoes spill out of the bag. I hear a loud gasp, and then there's silence,  _complete_  silence.


	8. Get Rid of the Evidence (Part 2)

_Shit_  - I thought I would never be caught! Why do I have to go through the front door instead of the window? Why does she have to interrogate me about the garbage in my plastic bag! Just  _why_  does she fucking care?

"What... please, don't tell me you did it," Katie whispers. "Don't tell me you killed her... just tell me that you suddenly got blood on your—" she stops, after seeing the heel of the shoe, covered in old blood. "I can't  _fucking_  believe you!" She shrieks.

"I didn't do anything," I say monotonically.

"Don't you  _dare_  lie to me!" She yells, almost breaking the sound barrier inside of our home. I'm surprised mom and dad aren't anywhere to be found. "Tell me the truth, all of it. Everything, from the beginning." She paces around the room angrily with a hand on her forehead. "ANSWER ME! I swear to god, Maya, if you do not tell me the truth—"

"Fine! I did it okay!" I yell back at her. I guess it's time to tell the truth. "I - I hated that she won the pageant. She didn't deserve it either. She boasts and boasts about her stupid accomplishments, and tries to get me into it. She saw me as no competition, and called me  _ugly_. I had to eliminate the bitch! I wanted her to cry, the minute I got that crown on my head. I used her boyfriend for the talent competition... then I had sex with him in the dressing room. She saw, and started to cry, so I finally thought I broke her in half. But no, she comes up with a half-assed answer to the pageant question. And I did as well but  _mine_  was better, you know? Then  _she_  gets the fucking crown! She gets all the mighty glory while I stand there in shock. That was  _supposed_  to be mine! So I go to her dressing room and attack her with my shoe until she dies. I take the crown from her head and left after cleaning the blood from it."

A silent pause passes before I continue, "But I had a good reason to do all of this—"

"No, that's  _not_  a good reason, at all!" My sister yells in my face, with all the rage her lithe body can manage. "You killed someone!" She clenches her fists and tries to calm down, but I know she can't. This is not a matter which people can be calm about it. "Oh my god. You're a  **heartless**  bitch!"

The sudden rush of familiarity rushes through me. I've heard that statement far too many times to care. "It's not the first time someone has called me that," I mutter.

"It shouldn't be!" She retorts. "How could you do this? I thought - you had everything you wanted, and you were raised right. How could you turn out to be a total _sociopath_?"

"I don't know, you tell me," I shrug.

"And you don't even care!" She laughs humorlessly. "Did you even care about your friends? I mean - you got over Tristan's death pretty quickly. And you don't even care about Tori - you  _killed_  her. Do you care about anyone?"

I laugh back. "Nope. I really don't."

"Wait a minute." She pauses, and closes her eyes, trying either to calm down or think. Either or, I'm starting to grow bored of this conversation. "What really happened at the girls' bathroom when someone found Tristan dead?"

"He tripped, fell, and died," I reply.

"Is this true?" The dark-haired girl asks, with a raised eyebrow. She doesn't believe me, but I can't let her know of that issue. Or maybe she can; it's not like she'll tell on me anyway. I'd kill her for that.

"No," I reveal with a tight smirk. "He received a high-five with a toilet seat, and found his head inside the toilet." Albeit amusing, it's enough for Katie to understand that the death is not unintentional. "It doesn't matter - they just met my wrath. And it's not my fault. They died, not me."

The still silence creeps up again, and it almost makes me want to take the shoes and attack my sister with it. It's now or never at this point - she knows everything about me, and in any given time, she can tell the police, or our parents, or the Santamarias. She can tell anyone now. I hope she knows that I can do anything at this point to make sure that no one knows about the brutal deaths at this point, and I make all of them look like an accident. So I can easily make Katie look like she killed herself.

But not now - I see the conflict in her eyes, thinking about what should happen at this point. She looks like she's thinking of something.

"What are you thinking about, dear sis?" I ask, attempting to use my sweet act on her. It wouldn't work, but oh well.

She doesn't look at me - rather she just mutters, "Get rid of the shoes, and don't tell  _anyone_  of this, okay?"

I nod, and hastily leave the house to the incinerator, where I quickly dump the shoes in the fire. While I consciously watch my pageant shoes being burned around the dancing fire, I see  _him_  across the street. I hurt his feelings, yes, but he should have suspected something. I don't want him.

Neither do I want anyone else.

As I leave to go back home, I just hope that I got rid of the evidence so I won't get locked up for anything in the near future.


	9. Abnormal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is in a different point of view. Take a guess on who it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi (unluckily)

I've always suspected that maybe, just  _maybe_ , something's wrong with my little sister, Maya. The way she seemed during situations, the way she carries herself as she gets older - it's always been a wonder. But I've never, not once, ever think that she's a sociopath with a serial killer tendency.

The minute I saw Tori's crown under her dresser did raise an eyebrow, since I tried to find out why would Maya have her best friend's crown that Tori  _rightfully_  won? She told me that Tori gave it to her. But I know Tori well to know that she would never give something she earned away so easily. My suspicions about Maya's sociopathic nature reveals the minute I see Tori's crusted blood on her pageant shoes.

I wanted to kill her. I wanted to end her life because I know that Tori will  _not_  be the last person she would kill. After revealing that she deliberately beat her other best friend, Tristan, to death, I finalize that my little sister is a sociopath.

But why am I not doing anything? I harbor two secrets about Maya that shouldn't be harbored; I should tell the police, but what good would it make? They won't believe me, and if she hears that I tried to rat her out, she will kill me too.

I've never known why she's a sociopath; Maya was (and always is, and always will be) the center of attention the minute my mom announced she was pregnant. I was only three, and elated about having a little sister around. The minute I saw my little sister at the hospital, I made a promise to be the best big sister in the world.

And I was - or at least, I  _tried_. I did everything for her. Despite my drug abuse, boy issues, and bulimia, I put her first before  _anything_. The students at her school despised her, but I never knew the reason, since I know she's just a sweet girl. However, the minute I saw the shoes, I draw my conclusion. She's pure  _evil_.

As I think back to our childhood, I would see her eagerly play with one of the neighbors' cats; I'd never forget how happy I would see her tend the small tabbies with her hands. My mom contemplated on taking one and owning it for ourselves, but I was  _highly_  allergic. The neighbors, noticing her distress, decide to let her come over and play with as many of them as she wanted. That's when I started to notice their cat population started to disappear.

Was it possible they ran away, or that Maya suddenly decided to show her raging anger towards the innocent felines? The neighbors had around ten. In less than two years, it declined to three. Then it stops, after they move from the neighborhood. A new family moves next door, with a boy named Robert the same age as my little sister. Robert seemed like a happy child; he always wanted to play with Maya and me, sometimes. I believed he had a crush on her. Being somewhat of the overprotective sister I am, I observed their playing time. They were eight, and I was simply eleven years old, almost starting middle school.

They went to the same school, where everyone, but Robert, shows extreme enmity towards her; even one girl pushes Maya down, causing to scrape her knee. What happened next is detailed by each student: Maya basically grabbed a metal stick and beat the girl half to death. I'd never forget that, because it's the key evidence to my evaluation towards my sister. I sound like a psychologist, but Maya is an antisocial menace to society, and that her two friends, the cats, and the little girl beaten half to death is just the beginning of a  _lethal_  serial killing until she dies, or at least, incarcerated.

After that incident, Robert stopped talking to her. Maya felt a great deal of disdain, and always force him to talk to her. One day, his parents couldn't find him home, and we never saw Robert ever again. No, meaning that he suddenly disappeared. The child was missing for almost a year before they gave up and presumed him dead.

As I wait until Maya comes home from throwing away the shoes, I look up the Internet for teenage sociopaths. Sad to say that there are many known teenage—even child—sociopaths. Her life resembles, as I really decide to do more research, one of the books I read in my sophomore year of school. It was about a child killer, but in the sense that her parents didn't know until someone drowns in a lake, and the biggest symbol of the girl's sociopathy is a pair of shoes. A pair of shoes…the same pair of shoes she walked in during the pageant is the same shoes that Tori's mother saw the stiletto heel wounds on her. I feel so bad for her mom, since they don't have any other kids. They watch their little girl grow from birth, and now her life abruptly ends in the hands of a narcissistic sociopath that's my sister.

I've should have seen this coming. Ever since Maya's been in Degrassi, I've seen a whole new light dawn on her; a light that deems  _evil_. She would never show any affection towards anyone. She even got into a fight with Tori on her first day. If that fight gone long enough, I think she would have killed Tori. She  _almost_  beat someone half to death. That's what she did to Tristan; she  _beat_  him to death. She didn't want anyone to tell on her, so she ends their lives to avoid defeat and trouble with us and the law. The little girl she beat half to death was unconscious for almost a month, and during that month, my sister had to serve a suspension. What would happen if they define out that Maya killed someone inside Degrassi? Would the expel her?

The door opens, and Maya walks in, with the same calm, emotionless face I've seen many times but never said anything about.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, startling her from a daze. She stares at me and shrugs, giving me the okay to go on.

"What happened to that kid who lived next door from us?" I ask. "I mean…he went missing and was never seen again. Since you told me about Tori and Tristan, I thought you would have something to do with it."

"Honestly, nothing," Maya replies, and the emotion in her eyes tell me she's telling the truth. "The last time I saw him, however, he just closed his front door and ran the opposite direction."

I blink a couple of times; why would a nine-year-old run away from home deliberately? "Do you know why?"

"No, I just saw him run and run, never to be seen again. I think he got abducted," Maya shrugs, with no care in the world as to where the little boy went. I cringe, not used to the whole sociopathic nature; she's been hiding it for so many years that it's just surprising in the least. "I'm bored. I'm gonna play my cello."

Without a reply, she walks off to her room. I hear the door lock and I barely embrace the silence before I hear the soft bass of the cello surrounding the house. I would normally enjoy this, but the recognizable sound of  _Au Clair De Lune_  grinds my gears. I block it off and drift off to a much-needed sleep.


	10. The Phone Booth of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.  
> I should also tell you - the ones that actually read this - this completely ignores Campbell's suicide at all costs, mainly because I wrote it before the idea was captivated in the Degrassi Verse. It completely ignores Season 12C for that matter.

It's been a week since I destroyed the shoes. It's been a week since my sister told me to destroy the shoes. It's also a few hours left before I perform in front of people for Romeo and Juliet. I've heard about some stupid fight that happened during Clare's birthday, and after seeing Dallas sport a broken nose, I laugh at his misfortune. I don't like him; he's another one of the people who called me flat chested on his first day.

It's just another day and I'm seeing so much shit happening within this troubled school. He's trying so hard to ruin the play in payback because Eli's the awesome person willing to break that egotistical (I shouldn't be talking) nose of his. Well, I can say the bipolar playwright can pack a punch, enough to break noses.

How mature, a hockey player trying to sabotage a play because someone broke his nose. Reminds me of a child tantrum, if you ask me. He needs to grow the hell up and work on his issues. Maybe that's why his nose is so big, it's full of anger.

Huh.

-x-

I notice how distant foreign boy Zig has been, after he unwillingly watched me and Cam make out in front of him. Not my fault he actually took my offer and actually touched me. Oh well - I can live with that. He seriously thinks I would leave Cam for him, but in reality, I would leave the both of them, and possibly kill them both. I just don't care for them at all. Cam's a virgin, and foreign boy's an idiot.

He sits by himself at the phone booth during lunch, not really doing anything. I approach him without him noticing, since if I try to make any noise, he would most likely run away. I feel like I'm hunting for a deer, but he's only just a student. I don't even understand why he's avoiding me.

"What do you want?" He asks me.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "You're avoiding me."

"You lied to me," he growls - "You're playing me and your boyfriend. You played us both. I don't understand why he's with you still, since you cheated on him."

"So you thought I will dump him for you?" I laugh. "Are you kidding me? You're just being used for my needs, nothing more. And I was used too in the dressing room, remember?" I slide in closer to him, hoping to get some action before my next class today. "You were so frustrated because Tori couldn't give you what you want, but here I am. I have the same problem with play—I mean Cam, so everything works out in the end."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "You just don't care about anyone's feelings, do you?"

"Neither do you," I point out. "You obviously still ravished me, in your own home, even after your poodle girlfriend died. So saying I only didn't care would be a lie."

"Off course I cared!" He yells. "What are you even saying? My girlfriend dies, and her best friend dies…god, I should have noticed when Tori told me something wasn't right with you."

"Oh so something's wrong with me?" Pray, tell, enlighten me with what you and poodle girl said about me. "Please enlighten me with your story. Come on tell me: was it my charm, my grandiosity, the way I simply got over Tristan's death and willingfully took his role in the play?"

"You're  **heartless**!" He gasps.

"Hey - you're  _definitely_  not the first person to call me heartless," I smirk evilly, with a shrug. "My sister called me heartless. Your girlfriend called me heartless. Hey - even the fat bastard before he died called me heartless. And guess what, only one of them survived after they uttered that word."

"I knew it!" Knew what? "You were the one who killed them, weren't you?"

"I'd tell you, but if I do, then you have to die," I say seriously, without any feeling.

His eyes widen - he realized he's sitting next to the enemy. Although I don't want him to know about it since he seems like the type that would rat me out, I feel that he's just another idiot who thought I have feelings for. I have feelings for no one. I don't care about anyone, possibly not even myself. Now that would be a lie - I have enough care for myself that I'm supposed to have for everyone that becomes my friend.

He gets up and runs towards the phone booth, and from my vision it looks like he's trying to dial the three-digit number that would end my life. Not on my watch. I pull out the box of matches and walk over to the phone booth, striking multiple amounts of matches until I see a fire. I open the door quickly and purposefully throw the lit matches on him, and close the door. I wedge a piece of wood between the door handles, and simply walk away.

I can hear his pleading cries as I walk back to Degrassi. They're so loud and ear-piercing that it almost makes me flinch in defense, and draw a bit of a crowd in the front of the school. Everyone - including teachers and principal Simpson, watch in horror as the dancing fire smolders one of their students inside a phone booth. I watch as well, but I show no emotion. No emotion is better than any, right?

My sister runs in front of the school, with her best friend and boyfriend by her side. As she sees the burning phone booth, she drops to her knees and starts to cry.

"Oh my god," Katie mutters over and over between sobs as the pounding of the door ceases and everyone sees the body slide down into the floor; pieces of burning flesh and blood staining the glass.

A couple of disgusted noises elicit from the crowd, and I shrug, preventing myself from snorting amusedly.

"You!" I hear Katie scream at me, and I turn around. She lunges after me and tries to shake me, but Marisol pries her off of me successfully. "What are you doing?" She yells at the distressed best friend.

"I'm so fucking blind!" She yells at Marisol's face, while she recoils at the sudden outburst. Everyone else who watched the horrific scene looks at her. "I just - oh my god—"

"What is it?" Her pothead boyfriend queries.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she faints, and collapses on top of her boyfriend. I blink in confusion, but again, that's an act. She finally realizes how evil I truly am, and she's having a hard time with coping. I understand; if it was her, I would have acted the same way. But since I'm not, I don't care.

As the ambulances and fire trucks come around, they try to tame the flames with water. I watch with an intent stare, as they, once again, try to clean up my mess. I also ignore the fact that both Jake and Marisol take my distressed sister to a nearby corner, or the fact that there are many questions laying around about who was the person in there, why was it done, how was it done, and possibly when.

Would this be my last strike, probably not; I just hope not another soul would cross my path.


	11. Last Woman Standing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.

In lieu of events, the principal thought it was best to postpone the play since no one's in the mood to watch a staged death happen in front of them after watching Zigmund burn to death. The heinous act makes it on the news, in which I'm not really surprised. The body's still unidentifiable, but both Katie and I know who it is. I can't really speak for her; she knows that I've committed  _another_  homicide - which probably makes me a serial killer. No, I'm just eliminating certain people who cross my path. And three people have done it.

She sits by my bed at night, staring at me. "You set it up, didn't you?"

I nod dutifully. "He figured out my secret. It's his fault - he shouldn't have ran away from me and tried to call the cops on me! I would have to go to jail if he does. You don't want me in jail, do you?"

Katie hesitates. "No. But - but you deserve to."

"I know," I shrug. I've never seen so much emotion within my sister - confusion, conflict, anger, shock, sadness. She doesn't know what to do anymore. I know I screwed up, and I should pay for it, but I don't think I will anytime soon. They'd have to catch me first. No one else suspects a thing, and no one would ever will. I just got to keep up my façade of being a pretty face with a killer alter ego. "What did you do to her crown?"

"I gave it back to her parents," she admits, and I feel a tinge of hate for the person sitting in front of me. How dare she give that crown to them? It was mine! "They need something recent to remember her by."

I shrug, acting like I don't care, "it's fine - really. I guess they deserve it more than me."  
Katie hears the bullshit in my voice, but says nothing of it. She's surprisingly calm, which almost scares me, but since it's only my sister who wouldn't do anything, the feeling quickly goes away. What can she really do; call the cops on me? She'd have to  _die_  trying to get to the phone, just like Zig did.

"Just promise me that this will be your last, okay?" She whispers. "It's bad enough that I have to keep these against my will. I don't want to keep covering for you, but I feel like I have to because I love you. Promise me okay?"

I nod quickly, but she frowns deeply. " _Promise_  me, Maya Matlin."

"I promise," I whisper back, with absolutely no meaning whatsoever (they just have to tend to my needs and wants and we won't have a problem!) and pick up the mug of milk she left out for me. I drink it rather hastily, to get it out if the way. the warmth suddenly makes me very drowsy and my eyes suddenly feel heavy. I try to fight it, but I suddenly close my eyes.

The last thing I hear is a small, tearful 'good night, little sis' before I fall in a deep, dark sleep.

-x-

I wake up slowly, with my eyes burning a little. The blurry, however bright light hinders me, but then it occurs to me - my room is never bright, neither is it that bright in the morning. What's going on? I lift my head up, and vaguely see my parents in an unfamiliar room. Where are my glasses…as soon as I thought of that question, I feel cold hands place my signature glasses on.

Then it occurred to me of the brightness. I'm in a hospital.

"What happened?" I immediately ask them.

My mom suddenly bursts into tears and holds my hand. Since her multiple sclerosis left her disabled, holding my hand for now is the only way she can give me a hug. "Mom, dad, what's going on? Why am I in the hospital?"

"We found your sister on the floor in her room, with one of your father's guns in her hand," Mom tries to explain, but she breaks down before continuing, so my father picks it up. "She shot herself by putting the gun in her mouth…we tried to wake you up as well so we can rush Katie to the hospital but you wouldn't wake up. We realized that your sister tried to kill you with sleeping pills when we found the pills on your bedside."

I knew it. One sleeping pill would not have made me fall asleep so quickly and so dangerously. "But why?" I feign innocence; I know the real reason why she did what she did. She felt the need to eliminate me, as well as herself. She tried to kill me so I would stop killing others, and she killed herself to get away from the guilt of keeping those secrets.

"I don't know, but I'm happy you're okay!" My father tearfully and guiltily grins. "She didn't make it."

Although it's a heart wrenching moment, I feel absolutely nothing. I'm emotionless; I still can't believe she tried to kill her own sister, and get away with it. She tries so hard, but I'm the last woman standing in the end because instead of shooting me, she shot herself. That's really smart - not! I laugh inwardly; she can rot in hell for all eternity, now that I'm an only child and I can do whatever I want. I can even kill so many people and get away with it, because I killed three people, and destroyed someone's psyche to the brink of insanity.

I have a feeling these three victims won't be my last, unless I get my way all the time until I'm locked up and that officer is injecting heart stopping fluid in my veins. Or if I'm one of the lucky ones, I live past eighty and get a heart attack - but wait, I don't have a heart. Figuratively speaking, I don't. Maybe when someone shoots me, I instead have black liquid oozing out of me instead of red. Hm, seems possible.

My father hugs me closely, while my mom keeps holding my hand. And in that moment, I smirk evilly to myself, with the satisfaction that I can leave here with the confidence to continue what I do.

Being a bad seed.


End file.
